


Dwarves and Mistletoe

by Yve



Category: Rune Factory (Video Games), Rune Factory 4
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Holiday Traditions, Humor, Love Confessions, Rated T for very slight allusions to sexual themes, Sweetness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-05 15:18:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5380034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yve/pseuds/Yve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Frey wants for Christmas is an overgrown fool of a Dwarf. Bado is even more excited than usual about his latest money making scheme on the morning of Christmas eve. Frey can't help but give in to her curiosity and find out what kind of nonsense her crush is up to this time. And Christmas in Selphia will never be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Suspiciously Giddy Dwarf

Frey stirred beneath the mounds of warm blankets in her overlarge castle bed. ‘Fit for a princess’ she had thought with only barely restrained dismay when she’d first come into her castle quarters in place of Arthur D. Lawrence, the true prince. Not that she would have admitted it, but this particular perk, a huge luxurious bed piled with feather mattress, silk-soft sheets, and bountifully lofty down comforter was easily worth performing her duties as princess all on its own, especially in midwinter. She grumbled quietly to no one, resenting the cold air that kissed her cheek good morning and snuggling down even more beneath the comforter.

She could certainly expect to be able to sleep in despite the duty of the princess to rise with the dawn and work her tiny tail off in the field behind the castle. A mischievous smile tugged at her lips. That overgrown bonehead that she’d peremptorily ordered to rise before even her and perform the duty of her wake-up call barely fulfilled his new royal service to her one day in twenty. It was a rather favorable arrangement, really. She’d lift an imperious eyebrow at him the first time she saw him any day he did not manage to drag his ass to the castle in the dark before sunrise and wake her and he’d brush off her feigned disapproval and make some ridiculous excuse like that he had been ‘helping a stray cat out of a tree’ or something and therefore could not make it to the castle in time to wake her.

Frey was certain beyond a doubt that Bado the town blacksmith had figured out her game by now, given that she hadn’t fired or punished him beyond a completely perfunctory and mild tongue lashing, which he participated in with her in a back-and-forth bantering game that was second nature to the pair of them by now. She was equally certain that given the undeniable truth that she _had_ primarily chosen him precisely because it would give her more opportunities to sleep in, he could not have guessed that she enjoyed the days he _did_ come to wake her even more. She blushed beneath the covers as her mind wandered in forbidden directions. Indulging in appreciating the masculine perfection of his visage was her most jealously guarded secret, after all. If that block-headed dwarf ever found out how hot for him she was, she’d _never_ hear the end of it.

Suddenly the decadent embrace of the bedding was torn from her and cold air rushed in with unwelcome icy fingers to pinch her exposed toes. She curled involuntarily into a ball at the sensation just as a booming basso voice chimed: “Good morning, princess! The sun’s up and so is the laziest man in town, so _you’ve_ got no excuse at all!” She opened her eyes and scowled up at the bearded face and blue-gray eyes of the blacksmith.

“What on earth’s got you so chipper this morning?” she growled, rubbing her eyes.

“Well if you must know, I’ve got a particularly good money-making idea this morning!” He intoned in a voice so elated his words had gone halfway toward becoming a song. He looked down at her with his salesman’s alligator smile but faltered for an instant, blinking rapidly at her and then deliberately averting his eyes as he hurried to say in a less confident voice, “Y-you’ll see what I mean if you come to my shop after breakfast.” His pointed dwarf’s ears were already pink from the nibbling cold of the winter-white morning outside, but _now_ they burned crimson, growing darker red by the moment.

Frey glanced down at herself, not quite fully cognizant after her rude awakening and noticed with a start what the big man had undoubtedly just seen. Her baby-blue nightgown’s strap had slipped off her right shoulder, perhaps taken with the covers when he’d ripped them off the bed. An uninterrupted swath of her pearly white skin was exposed over her whole shoulder and down half of her breast. Through the supple fabric of the night dress her body had already announced its reaction to the chilly morning. She snatched up a corner of the sheet and held it up over her front as she readjusted her clothing with the other hand and cleared her throat. Bado took a step or two to the left and collected the collar of a warm robe draped across the back of a chair in his big, angular hand. He handed it to her, still averting his eyes and _smirking_ , damn him! Frey frowned as she snatched the robe and tugged it on with vehemence in her movements.

“Sorry, little lady.” The big man chuckled, not nervous or apologetically enough to absolve him from guilt in her mind, “I promise that wasn’t on purpose.”

“Likely story…” She muttered indignantly. He laughed aloud and returned to his original fixation.

“Yeah yeah, guilty until proven innocent, I gather. But seriously, Frey, come by the shop okay? I promise this is a really good one!” He grinned gleefully at her and she rolled her eyes.

“Fine.” She tossed her head and did not _quite_ let herself smirk as she threw a taunt at his back as he turned to go. “You may go now, squire.” He snorted a laugh and bent an eyebrow at her over his shoulder.

“Please, princess. I was a knight long before you fell from the sky into your ‘royal status’.” Came his scoffing tone. She preened as she dragged a pearl-handled brush through her long silky hair.

“A _knight_ is not a _prince_.” She said with delicate, surgically precise dismissal. He grinned a crooked smile at her and turned to go once more.

“Sure, sure.” His voice sang lightly, “Go on and get to your _chores_ , princess.” And he was gone before he could see her frown.

Alone with her thoughts as she dressed and put her hair up in her trademark pigtails, Frey’s curiosity began to stir. Sure, he’d never yet managed to impress her with one of his schemes, but still, he was _so excited_ about this one. She couldn’t help but wonder what the impulsive shopkeeper had cooked up.

She joined Vishnal and Clorica for breakfast and enjoyed the pleasant conversation with them, then piled an extra plate with pancakes drowning in syrup and butter and walked back out to the dragon hall.

Ventuswill the Divine Wind greeted the princess and her offering with all the regal nobility Frey had come to expect from the dragon.

“Oh! _Pancakes!!”_ The dragon shrilled and bent her long serpentine neck to chomp down the too-sweet breakfast with enough culinary gusto to make competitive eaters blink. Frey waited for Venti to finish licking maple syrup from her toothy chops and enjoyed a little polite conversation with her.

“Are you ready for Christmas tomorrow?” The dragon asked pleasantly.

“Yeah, of course.” Frey chimed happily.

“Got all your gifts prepared?” Venti inquired with a knowing look. It was no secret that the princess loved giving gifts, not just tokens, but the recipients’ most favorite things more often than not. She prided herself on knowing everyone’s tastes and Christmas was her moment to demonstrate it loudly and proudly.

“You bet.” Came the princess’ reply. The dragon chuckled with a cheerful smile crinkling the corners of her glossy dark eyes, but then her reptilian face fell into a more somber expression.

“What’s the matter?” Frey asked, brow bent. The dragon sighed and shook her great head very slightly.

“Everyone exchanges gifts all around town in the morning, but all of Selphia is my family. Perhaps it is selfish of me but I want everyone _here_ , not scattered about the town where I cannot see or hear their joy, their laughter.” Frey patted the dragon’s foreclaw at the wrist of her great feathered wing in a conciliatory fashion.

“I’ll be here, Venti.” She said softly. The dragon’s face shifted into what Frey recognized as a smile, now that she had spent so much time around the dragon.

“You’re a peach, Frey.” The dragon god said simply, and nudged her with her nose. “Well, you’d better run along. Lots to do if you want to take tomorrow off.” Frey sighed loudly.

“Slave driver.” She grumbled. Venti laughed aloud.

“Just so, you tiny little martyr.” She retorted. They exchanged smiles once more and Frey left the castle, padding down the snow-coated cobblestone path to the residential district where the blacksmith’s shop and home were. 


	2. Master of the Inexplicable

It wasn’t long before Frey stood before the large heavy door of the _Meanderer_ Smithy with its ornate wrought-iron embellishments adorning the rustic portal without elevating it to anything that could be labeled ‘ostentatious’. She liked the aesthetic, but she’d never admit that to _him_. It was dangerous to give that man even a scrap of approval, lest he take it and go sprinting toward some endeavor even more ridiculous than usual. She gripped the iron handle, cold even through her winter mittens and entered, stamping her feet on the doormat and calling a greeting into what turned out to be an empty room.

The familiar sign on the shop’s counter insisted customers might make purchases without the proprietor via the ‘honor system’ but there was no big, broad shouldered dwarf calling playful, teasing banter at her. She furrowed her brow and bit her lip. On a sudden impulse she began pacing about the shop, looking for what was different in an effort to uncover his scheme even without him here to pitch it to her. Everything seemed exactly as it had always been until she noticed one corner of the room curiously empty of merchandise. _Something_ was sitting on the floor in the vacant space, but even as she approached it she could not identify the thing.

It was metal, forged and bent into its curious shape by the blacksmith himself, no doubt. The center was something like a pot with a cylindrical mouth opening skyward, but four large bolts penetrated the wall of it toward the center, only partially screwed in, as if meant to pin something in the center of them. Four curved limbs propped the pot from the points of the compass so that it could not topple or even wobble. Frey scrunched her nose as she tried to figure out just what idiotic plan the half-charlatan had for this peculiar thing.

Suddenly the front door banged open, swung wide by a burly arm and the absurdly tall silhouette that could only be the big dwarf himself ducked into the room with… a _tree._

Frey gaped at him, wide eyed, as he shook snow off of himself and onto the floorboards. She had of course intended to ridicule him regardless of what his scheme actually was, but now as he dismounted it from his shoulder and set the stump of a seven and a half foot tall fir tree on the rug and brushed pine needles and snowflakes off his coat with one arm, she could not find her words.

Bado glanced up, did a double take as he saw her standing there and grinned broadly.

“Ah, good timing, princess!” He called. “You ready for this?” She rested the heel of her hand at her brow and shook her head.

“How could _anyone_ be ready for _your_ next move, Bado?” She replied in a long-suffering voice. He laughed good-naturedly and stumped toward the thing on the floor, tree in hand. She hopped out of his way but hovered nearby and watched as he set the stump in the metal pot and tightened the bolts. She most definitely did _not_ let her eyes come to rest on his backside as he flattened himself prone against the floor on his belly, reaching under the lowest branches to adjust the bolts.

“There.” He grunted after a few more moments rolled onto his back, and put a hand out to Frey. “Help me up, will ya?” She automatically grasped the big hand with both of her tiny ones and leaned very far back to muster enough leverage to help the big man to his feet. He brushed more pine needles off of himself and grinned proudly.

“Whaddaya think?” She raised her eyebrows at the question and glanced over at the tree.

“I think you inexplicably brought a _tree_ into your house, and that there’s no conceivable way this will result in getting you any money.”

“ _Christmas_ tree.” He corrected, shaking a finger at her. She frowned at him flatly. He laughed again.  “You’ll see. They’ll be all the rage. I’m gonna decorate this one up with Kiel, all pretty and colorful and we’ll put our gifts under it. Everyone in town will want one and _I’ll_ be the one to provide them, for a price, of course.” Frey folded her arms and raised her eyebrows.

“ _You’re_ going to trudge around _all day_ , having temporarily become a lumberjack, and chop down trees and haul them to people’s homes for _everyone_ in town?” She said in a voice dripping with skepticism. His eyebrows raised as he considered this. She glanced down at the stand with its wrought-iron feet holding up the ‘Christmas tree’ and added: “And I suppose you’re going to forge one of these for everyone who wants a tree, too? Even if anyone _does_ want to drop their gold for such a crazy thing, _you_ haven’t done _that_ much labor all year! Why on earth would you think you’d do it all _today??_ ” She asked incredulously. Bado chuckled and shrugged.

“You exaggerate, but point taken. Even so, there’s always next year. This year could be just for exposure; get everyone used to the idea.” He looked up thoughtfully and tugged on the point of his short beard. “But I haven’t given up on this Christmas, yet. Just wait and see, Frey.” She rolled her eyes again.

Suddenly he brightened, snapped his fingers and turned out one of his coat pockets with a grin. “That’s not all though, check these out!” He intoned happily as he held out a big handful of sprigs of mistletoe, their characteristic oval leaves still green despite the winter chill. Perhaps he’d gone out to Yokmir to get them. Frey raised her eyebrows.

“And what are _these_ for?” She asked.

“Christmas is all about showing love and affection for those around you, right?” he said, voice building in excitement, “And _now_ , you can hang one of _these_ up in a doorway. When someone catches you under the mistletoe, you have to give them a _kiss_.” He said like someone confiding a plot to conduct a heist. Frey snorted derisively.

“Who’s gonna wanna do _that?_ ” She scoffed.

“Don’t be a spoil sport, princess.” He said, then lifted one of the sprigs of foliage over his dark ruffled hair and grinned wolfishly at her. “Wanna help me with some product testing before these hit the shelves?”

“Ugh!” She snarled in disapproval, fully aware her eyes were sparkling with mirth and hoping it would go unnoticed. He laughed aloud, his booming voice filling up the shop with his good humor. She smirked in spite of herself, but didn’t let him see as she turned to leave. “Good luck with all this. I’m going back to where stuff makes sense.” She called and shut the door behind her.


	3. A Town Full of Lunatics

The smirk clung to her lips as she made her way through the snow back to the castle. A whole morning’s worth of carefully unburying the shoots of lamp grass peeking up through the white carpet of frozen flakes awaited, to say nothing of the monsters that needed brushing and barns that needed their straw changed out. The princess of Selphia hummed and sang as she worked through the cold morning, her breath visible in front of her face in little swirling puffs of white vapor.

At last when the last of her big silver wolf monsters was brushed, tongue lolling out happily as he basked in her attentions, she sighed, set the brush down and made her way back across the fields to the castle in mid-afternoon. The back door to the east wing of the castle admitted her directly to her quarters where she could have a hot shower, return the feeling to her fingers and toes, and dress in clean, dry, warm clothes for the rest of the evening. Perhaps she’d make hot cocoa. Something hot sounded good, she thought.

Within an hour she was clean, dressed, and sighing with contentment as she brushed out her long hair again and went into the dragon hall on her way to the kitchens.

Frey stopped in her tracks with a little gasp of surprised as she looked up… and up, and _up_ at an _enormous_ conifer standing proudly in the center of the dragon alter, reaching up to the sky almost to the open skylight the dragon used for an entrance to her great hall. The princess’ mouth hung open as she stared at the sight.

“Hi Frey!” Called a boy’s cherubic voice. Kiel smiled cheerfully at her from a few paces away, gloved hands clutching a box of colorful knickknacks she recognized as unsold inventory from Bado’s bizarre little shop. Her eyes moved from Kiel to Forte, sitting on a stool nearby and bending wire into hooks with pliers before fastening the hooks onto the knickknacks and handing them off to Meg, Arthur, and Dylas who were energetically leaning this way and that, reaching out and hanging the objects on the outstretched branches of the tree.

Frey blinked at them and looked up as Ventuswill’s head came into view, curving around the cone of the tree, a bright red swath of silk, long and thin, protruding from her jaws in generous loops. Her eyes glimmered at Frey and she finished draping the red silk garland around the shelf-like branches of the enormous evergreen before looking back down at Frey and inquiring with a girlish, cheerful voice wholly incongruous with her huge reptilian bulk: “What do you think, princess?” Frey stared with blank resignation at her and those around. For the first time, Frey noticed Granny blossom sitting in a chair by one of the grand fireplaces along the wall crackling with golden light and warmth as she heard Doug’s voice as he offered the elderly woman a cup of hot-juice on a saucer. The old woman thanked her surrogate son politely and set down her knitting, a sock entirely too large for anyone but the enormous dragon herself, to accept it. Frey’s eyes went up to the mantle of the fireplace where easily two dozen more socks, each labeled with the name of someone from town and matching the size of the person named, hanging on small hooks along the fireplace.

“You’ve all gone mad.” She said flatly. A familiar booming laugh announced itself behind her and she turned and looked up at the big blacksmith standing in the doorway as he grinned down at her.

“Wha’d I tell ya?” He called happily. She looked around again as Leon’s voice joined the group, the Fox-like man striding into the room with his ears erect and his bushy tail swishing excitedly back and forth. Dolce, Pico, the pair of butlers-in-training and Volkanon followed him, all of them carrying boxes of colorful glass globes. Leon approached and flicked his ears at Bado.

“It’s insane how much junk you manage to fit in that tiny shop of yours, but I guess it came in handy this _one_ time.” Frey blinked at him, still speechlessly trying to make sense of it all, when Xiao Pai, Lin Fa, Jones and Nancy arrived carrying platters of baked treats.

“We’ve got everything ready for tomorrow.” Called Lin Fa in her floaty, oblivious voice complete with a girlish giggle. Xiao Pai stepped up beside her mother.

“Mama and I tried to make peppermint sticks but we left them at the edge of the cooling tray too long and now their ends are all bent, it seems!” She held up one of the red and white candy sticks and indeed, the top third of it had drooped into a hook-like shape.

“Oh, they’re fine!” Nancy gushed, full of cheer, “They’re adorable, in fact. We can hang them on the tree too, see?” She reached out and perched the hook part of the candy over an outstretched pine sprig and leaned back, tilting her head as she fawned over the decorations. “It’s all so lovely!”

“Porcoline is busy cooking up a storm for tomorrow. We checked on him while we were out.” Jones added in his mellow voice. Dylas leaned back and looked at Jones with a fretful expression.

“I’d better go and start ferrying the dishes back to the castle kitchens before he gets hungry and eats them all himself.” He grumbled. Arthur chuckled in a knowing way and Meg laughed nervously.

“We’ll help.” Arthur announced with his customary serene calm. Meg nodded, and the three of them headed out toward the restaurant.

“We’re baaaaaack!” A shrill voice announced from above. Frey looked up to see Amber fluttering down on butterfly wings, her arms full of mistletoe sprigs. Illuminata appeared as well, holding her own basket of foliage. Frey’s eyes stretched wide and her mouth curved in a pronounced frown. She spun around and glared up at Bado, unable to believe that he’d somehow managed to snake-oil the entire town of Selphia into adopting even _this_ ridiculous, made-up custom.

The dwarf’s face stretched into a broad smile full of gloating, giddy pride, then he pointedly raised his blue-gray eyes above him. Frey’s emerald irises followed his line of sight and her expression faltered as she recognized the sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorway above his head. The big blacksmith waggled his eyebrows at the princess with a lopsided smile full of expectation. Her face flushed crimson before she could marshal her will to counter the reaction. Bado laughed aloud as she spun around with a frustrated growling exclamation and hurried over to speak to Venti.

The big dragon lowered her head, eyes gleaming with joy and greeted the princess with a dragon-grin.

“Isn’t it magnificent, Frey?” She said in an almost childish voice full of awe and wonder.

“It’s _something_ , all right.” Frey answered vaguely, staring up the side of the humungous tree.

“Everyone has agreed to celebrate _here_ tomorrow!” The dragon-god squealed happily. “It was Bado’s idea: to start a new tradition of decorating the dragon hall and doing a town-wide gift exchange in the morning, and feast in the evening! This is going to be the best festival ever!” Ventuswill’s wings beat the air in her elation, causing the tree’s branches to waver in the wind of it and a number of nervous groans to go up from the townspeople gathered around.

“Oh! Sorry.” The dragon ducked her head abashedly, still grinning.

“And this was all _your_ idea, huh?” Frey said suspiciously, turning to Bado whom she’d felt walking up beside them with his heavy footsteps and long stride. He cleared his throat and made a show of speaking in a dignified, unassuming voice.

“Lady Ventuswill expressed her desire to celebrate as a group and I put forward my ideas and offered my overstock as decorations for the cause. She most _generously_ offered to compensate me for the inventory we’re converting to ornaments for the tree.” He smirked, staring smugly at her from the corner of his eye and she gave a flabbergasted look, shook her head, and laughed, finally giving in to it all.

“You should have gotten me to bet on it.” She said, smiling, You’d have won some gold from me, too.”

“This level of ‘I told you so’ is worth a fair amount of gold, too.” He returned, grinning at her.

“Yeah, I’ll bet it is.” She chuckled, looked up at the beaming dragon as she assisted in decorating the giant tree, humming cheerful made-up songs full of bouncing, syrupy-sweet melodies. The sight of the divine dragon so completely exultant kindled a warmth in her chest. After everything she, the dragon, the guardians, and the entire town had been through, it was good to see her like this. Frey turned back to Bado and let her guard down long enough to give him a genuine smile. His face relaxed from the mocking, mischief customary to his character to reflect her earnest approval. “You did good.” She said simply. His smile widened.

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day.” Forte chimed in, her tone proud of her foster father despite the mocking nature of the words themselves.

“Somebody write down the date and time for me!” Bado called out in mock urgency. He leaned over and elbowed Frey with an obvious fiction of a confidential look. “She’s _never_ admitted I’m right before.” Forte levied a blunt look of disapproval at Bado and Frey let a laugh open her lips.

“Shouldn’t you be helping me make hooks for the ornaments?” Forte growled, jutting the mouth of the pliers toward the big dwarf. He acquiesced with a joking grumble about being made to work even after ‘saving Christmas’ with his brilliant ideas and went over to sit beside the lady knight and craft ornament hooks. Frey smiled at his back for a moment, the bystanders seeing the affection in her gaze just this once, then came over to join them.

Crafting the rest of Bado’s overstock of figurines, glass globes and odds and ends into ornaments took another couple of hours, during which she enjoyed the company of Bado, Forte and the others hanging the trinkets on the tree as they chatted back and forth. When Meg came back she began composing songs about the new traditions which everyone picked up and began singing together after she’d played a few rounds of the new tune. When the transformation of the entire dragon hall was complete at last, they stood back with their fellow Selphians and their dragon god and admired their handiwork.

“It really does make the holiday feel more special.” Said Nancy, snuggling into Jones’ absent-minded half embrace as he, too gazed up at the big tree. Before she could recognize and smother it, a pang of envy flickered through Frey as she saw the casual affection of the couple. Her eyes flicked sideways briefly at the big dwarven blacksmith and she wondered what it would feel like to lean against his big frame. Would he draw her tighter against his side with one big arm, automatically welcoming and reciprocating such a show of affection? She banished the thought and looked away from him again.

“AHEM” Came Volkanon’s big booming voice, calling all their attention toward him as he stood in the doorway to the kitchens and dining hall wearing a frilly pink and white apron with all the dignity his station as top butler bestowed to him in every circumstance. “Dinner is served, ladies and gentlemen. If you’ll please join us for a meal in the dining hall...” He bowed and ushered them through the doorway with a broad gesture of his own great arm. The Selphians muttered excitedly, realizing their hunger for more than cookies and other sweets at the mention of the meal.


	4. Midnight Meanderer

Dinner was delicious as always. Sure, Frey knew cooking was a skill butlers were trained in, but Mr. Volkanon never ceased to amaze her with the ease with which he provided several-course meals for them almost daily. After eating their fill and working together to assist the butlers in cleaning up after the unusual number of guests, Illuminata escorted Blossom home as Lin Fa, Porcoline, Jones and Nancy all returned to their homes, promising to come again first thing in the morning for the festival. The younger members of the town’s population had determined to sleep in the castle in the dragon hall with Venti overnight so they could wake up together on Christmas morning. It had been an idea cooked up and carried by the guardians, whose bond with the dragon brooked no less a show of attachment to her great feathered hide.

To her only half-surprise, Bado also decided to stay at the castle, being disinclined to make the effort of walking home. He instead defined a new record for slouching his enormous self in an armchair by the fire, big feet sprawled out in front of the chair and head tilted back on the rim of the padded piece of furniture. Even after Frey had said goodnight to the guardians, Doug, Kiel, Forte, Xiao Pai, Meg, and the two butlers-in-training and gone to bed, the image of him sleeping in that chair with his mouth hanging open stuck with her and tugged her lips into a smirk. The big goof was really rather cute, especially when he wasn’t busy trying to sell some crazy scheme. Then again, it had worked out better than she ever would have expected today.

Her mouth relaxed into a neutral expression as she considered her infatuation with the big man. The way he’d spoken to and looked at her today… Something about this whole Christmas together thing made her pause on her crush. Normally she chalked it up to an impossible daydream she’d indulge in once in a while. Normally she didn’t _mind_ the fact she was single, and according to him _he_ didn’t mind it either. She couldn’t be sure if it had sparked any of the same feelings in the big blacksmith, but for her part, something wistful had been kindled in her. She couldn’t deny she’d _like_ to be celebrating Christmas as half of a couple one of these years… _this_ one in particular.

Frey sighed loudly, recognizing a cyclical train of thought that precluded sleep when she felt it. She sat up, swung her feet over the side of the bed and into her slippers and shrugged on her robe. She stood up and padded silently down the corridor to the dragon hall.

Even before she reached the huge atrium, the golden glow of the fire flickered on the walls beside her as she trailed her fingertips along the polished stone surface. Eyes already adjusted to the dark, she smiled softly as she saw the dozen young men and women in sleeping bags all clustered in the curve of Venti’s coils under the boughs of the gigantic tree. The enormous dragon’s length curled about the tree like some unthinkably large cat, the gentle rise and fall of her sides as she breathed lending a gentle rhythm to accompany the quiet crackle and pop of the fire nearby. Frey walked all the way around the great tree and its slumberers below, who remained utterly undisturbed by her passage. She smiled constantly to herself as she reached out and touched the various ornaments with slender fingertips and came finally to the fireside where Bado was sleeping.

She sank into the seat across from him and stared at the sleeping man’s bearded face with a fretful brow. Even now the angles of his person, right down to the smile lines and crow’s feet etched in his face, stirred her heart to a slow, warm glow in her chest. She sighed almost silently.

“What am I going to do with you?” She murmured, then turned her eyes to gaze into the low firelight.

“You askin’ for suggestions?” Came a low, gentle reply. She spun her head back around and stared at the half-lidded eyes of the big dwarf, golden flecks of firelight reflecting in the slightly metallic gleam of his blue-gray irises. One corner of his mouth was curled in a hint of a smile. No other part of him had moved at all.

“Sneak!” She hissed a whispered reply full of indignance. “No fair, pretending to be asleep.” He raised his dark eyebrows.

“Coming from the girl who crept out here to watch me in my sleep?”

“I _didn’t_ come out here to watch you.” She retorted as furiously as near-silent whispering could allow. “I just kinda… ended up here.” He looked at her, quirking a disbelieving eyebrow and blinking slowly, saying nothing. She sighed impatiently and looked away, shaking her head. In reality she was mortified with embarrassment, but playing it off was infinitely easier than admitting the truth, especially to _him_.

Bado stirred and sat up, leaning forward until his elbows came to rest on his knees, he looked across the small space between them into her face until she reluctantly returned his stare.

“You alright?” He asked, slowly and deliberately. There was absolutely no trace of teasing in his voice. The princess found herself taken aback, ordinarily so used to his playfulness and cheek.

“I… um…” She faltered, responding by reflex rather than intention. Suddenly she realized she, too was leaning forward. She blinked and looked down and away from his eyes.

Before long a big, squareish hand slipped under the fingers of her left hand and squeezed it gently. She looked startled up into his eyes again.

“What’s the matter, Frey?” He asked levelly, a touch of worry in his voice.

“I'm fine… or, I mean, I _think_ I am?” She whispered, feeling her guard slip even more. It felt strangely… _right_ , being open with him, even a little. He said nothing as he waited for her to elaborate, but his somewhat calloused thumb stroked over the back of her little hand. She looked up at the tree, the dragon, and her fellow Selphians sleeping soundly beneath it. “It’s really lovely.” She said, swallowing as she translated her feelings to words. “But something about it makes me feel lonely.” Even her whispering shrank to nothing at the end of this sentence, but whether he could read her lips or merely knew what she would say regardless, Bado smiled gently.

“I can understand that.” He murmured. She looked into his eyes and swallowed. He glanced down at their hands and back up to her eyes. Some multifaceted expression flickered in his blue-gray eyes, part understanding, part question. She knew perfectly well what she _wanted_ it to mean, but the risk of suffering the aftermath of her presumption if it were wrong stopped her from speaking. He smiled gently, sympathetically. “Nothing like a holiday all about being together to remind you of when you’re not.”

Frey said nothing, but looked into his eyes for a long moment with a lost little expression of concern and uncertainty. She knew looking at him like that was definitely _not_ the way to get him off her trail, but she couldn’t help herself just now. He stared back, unblinking for a time. Her lips parted to speak but she had no words prepared. His eyes flicked down to her mouth and back up to her gaze, softened and gleaming gold and blue and silver in the firelight. Blood rushed into her face and Frey looked away, stammering:

“I-I s-should get to bed.”

He squeezed her hand gently and stood with graceful silence, despite his large size.

“Come on, then.”  He half-whispered and tugged her to her feet. Frey did not pull her hand form his as he walked her silently back over to the doorway that to the East wing. Her heart pounded in her chest and she wondered if he felt her quickened pulse through his thick fingertips clasped with hers.

They slowed simultaneously at the doorway and she whispered: “Good night.” and turned to pass through it into her quarters. His hand tightened, staying her from leaving. She turned back to him, uncertainty in her face. He glanced up above her and her gaze followed his for the second time that day to the apex of the doorway arch. She saw the little leafy silhouette of the mistletoe in the firelight and returned her eyes to his. No taunting wolf’s smile leered at her this time. His face was serene, the shadow of a gentle smile on his mouth, and a question in his eyes. Her heart fluttered yet faster.

She’d fled this moment once already in the last few minutes, knowing all too well how much she wanted to let it happen. Her resolve already spent, Frey leaned toward the big man, letting her eyes half close and waiting as she squeezed his hand slightly.

Bado leaned close, lifted his left hand to her right shoulder, the touch of his fingertips slight and delicate. He bent his neck. Her eyes closed. Her lips parted slightly, tingling in anticipation of meeting his.

The warm sensation on the side of her face surprised her as he kissed her cheek, as gentle and careful as if she were made of glass, but she leaned into the touch by instinct, and he whispered in her ear:

“You know where to find me if you want to talk, Frey. I’ll be here… when you’re ready.” He withdrew from her, the warmth of him in such close proximity fading to the drafty cold of the castle halls as he backed up a pace, squeezed her fingers once more, and let them slip from his grasp.

Frey stared up at his face in the ever dimmer glow of the fire burning down to coals, and nodded, blinking and swallowing through a moment full of her throat tightening and her eyes burning.

“Good night, Frey.” He murmured.

“Good night, Bado.” She whispered back, and turned to go.


	5. Nothing Says 'I Love You' like Parsley

Frey burrowed back into the soft embrace of her luxurious bed, but sleep was a dubious prospect, regardless of how many feather pillows and down blankets she piled onto the bed with her.

Already she’d unwittingly laid her cards on the table, thinking he meant to bridge the gap himself the instant she let him. But the big man _hadn’t_ set his mouth to hers and burned the uncertainty out of her with his kiss, as she’d hoped he would. What did it mean, then? She hardly could have been any more obvious. There was no way he hadn’t known she’d have welcomed his kiss in that moment, and instead he’d kissed her on the cheek and promised to listen when she chose to speak.

Hours of mentally chasing her tail passed in the utterly silent, utterly dark post-midnight. Finally in the half-mad clarity that comes to one in the wee hours before dawn, she made her decision and closed her eyes, mentally counting the hours and preparing herself to wake before dawn. That little trick was her secret. After all, if Bado knew she could wake herself early merely by whatever internal time sense she had been born with there would be no excuse to mandate his service as her wake-up call. She smiled slightly as she drifted off to the still rest devoid of uncertainty she’d earned by her choice.

Morning came to her in an abrupt sense of excited wakefulness all at once in the stillness and silence of the dark pre-dawn. Frey felt the electric thrumming of excited anticipation in her veins as she jumped out of bed, dressed and pattered to her own crafting room and kitchen adjacent to her quarters in the East wing. Here she could cook anything she wanted without disrupting or involving the butlers in the castle’s main kitchen. _This_ morning it came in handy to allow her a secret space of time in which to create the token she needed to execute her plan.

She boiled water, whisked eggs, selected herbs and spices, and went about the kitchen in bright, eager motions, giddy and terrified all at once at her resolve. Finally finished, she carefully placed the fresh herb garnish atop the dish and covered it with a plate and a dish towel as she walked out into the main room.

Incredulous bickering voices sounded down the hall as she approached the atrium and she smirked as she recognized Dylas and Doug arguing about who had gone to _less_ effort to get the other a gift, when everyone knew perfectly well the obstinate pair of boys always considered one another carefully during gift-giving holidays. The chattering voices of the group stopped as she entered the room and smiled cheerfully at them, offering no explanation for the covered dishware in her arms.

“Good morning! Merry Christmas, everyone!” she called. A chorus of happy voices echoed back: “Merry Christmas, Frey!” She walked over to join them and the group chattered with one another about sleeping in the dragon hall, dreams they’d had and so on as they settled about the base of the tree and prepared to begin the gift exchange. Once the rest arrived, having slept in their own homes and risen early to join in the festivities, the town-wide festival Venti had dreamed of began with the giving and receiving of gifts, plucked up from beneath the Christmas tree and passed out as Bado had envisioned.

The whole affair could not have been more perfectly heart-warming and pleasant. Selphians were gracious givers and receivers of gifts and they bestowed favor and gratitude in reply to every gift each of them received throughout the exchange as they took turns passing parcels, tearing open wrapping paper, and exclaiming happily to one another as Christmas surprises were revealed. When at last the group slowed down, sharing a laugh at Kiel half-buried in spent pieces of wrapping paper and ribbon, Frey swallowed nervously and picked up the warm dishware she had set down beside her during the proceedings.

“Is everyone finished?” Meg asked, looking around. Frey looked across the circle of her friends and neighbors at the blue-gray eyes of the town blacksmith. He opened his mouth to speak but she answered first.

“I have one yet to give.” She said, forcing her voice to be steady as she rose and stepped across the circle to Bado, the dishware rattling slightly in her shaking hands. She stopped in front of the tall man where he sat and knelt before him, sitting gracefully back onto her heels such that everyone in the room could see the pair of them. She held the cookware out to him and said in a sweetly feminine voice: “Merry Christmas, Bado.”

A smile flickered on his lips briefly as she spoke, but the hushed, confused and anticipatory silence all around the group had apparently filtered into him, too. No one said anything as Frey swallowed and Bado accepted the gift, set it in his lap, removed the draped dish towel, and opened the lid. A little puff of steam billowed up as he released the savory aroma of the dish into the room. He blinked, mild surprise showing on his masculine face, and held perfectly still a moment. Frey held her breath silently and watched him, not sparing one glance to any of the townspeople around them or the enormous dragon looming above.

Bado looked up into her eyes and then his flicked over her person, sitting upright before him, her back straight and her fingers bunched in a tight grip on the hem of her dress. She’d worn a shimmering velvet gown of crimson, darling and fitted and clearly picked out carefully for this moment. In her hair, which she’d tied up in her characteristic twin tails of long, pale green silken strands, there were sprigs of mistletoe fastened in with the butterfly shaped bows she always wore. Bado looked back down at the bowl in his hands. The bright yellow of the eggs, dotted with pepper and herbs cooked into them blazed vividly against the brilliant white of the fluffy rice beneath, but the aromatic parsley sprigs she’d arranged on top stole the show in this case: They were weaved into the outline of a heart of vibrant green stem and leaf.  

She’d known of course that Bado was not a man to be moved by a trinket or book or piece of clothing. For a man ostensibly obsessed with making money, he could not easily be nudged into action if he did not want to be, even for a bribe or an offer of material goods. She’d seen through his rouse early but never let on overtly until now. And, she’d known as she always did what his most favorite thing was. There was a reason the princess of Selphia prided herself on her gifts to others. She _listened_.

A shocked silence followed several gasping intakes of air among the townsfolk as they saw the garnish, including a peculiar hissing, growling noise of surprise, short and involuntary, from the divine dragon leaning over them with her long neck.

“Rice bowl dishes are my favorite.” Bado said quietly.

“I know.” She replied calmly.

“It’s still hot… and fresh. You made this this morning… got up early.”

“I did.”

“And you topped it with a parsley heart…” His tone was both amused and slightly unbelieving.

“Yep.” She said with forced confidence and continued to stare at him steadily as he spoke.

“You waited until the last and gave this to me in front of everyone…” She nodded. “So, you must be pretty sure.” He looked at her levelly, eyes waiting for her answer.

“Yes.” She said, quiet and certain. It was not an affectation like her feigned calm while her pulse raced inside her.

“Well then,” He said, setting the dish carefully aside and smiling with one side of his mouth as he spoke, “May I give you my gift now?” She nodded, electrified with nervous excitement and burning for his answer.  He reached up and dipped his hand into one of the breast pockets of his fur-collared vest, a common sort of garment for the dwarves of Norad. When his hand came back out of the pocket it was a fist, whatever he intended to give clutched within his folded fingers. He held the fist out between them and waited a breath or two while her eyes flicked between his hand and face. Then his expression transformed into a happy, sheepish smile, full of joy and bashful affection and utterly undisguised or ambiguous for once.

He relaxed his hand and a delicate silver charm, an ornate heart made of leaves and vines dropped to the end of its brilliant silver chain and dangled there between their faces. Her eyes centered on it and her heart jumped. She stared at the beautiful pendant, undoubtedly crafted by his own hand in his own artistic vision for a token of his love. Her eyes came back to his and she gave him a look as if to ask if it were possibly okay for her to accept such a thing. His smile widened, the big butch blacksmith utterly smitten and not giving a damn who knew about it.

“It’s yours if you want it… just like me.” He said softly but audibly. Behind her handkerchief, Nancy squeaked and Frey could almost hear Jones roll his eyes affectionately in response to her excited reaction. Frey let a soft smile tug on her lips, leaned forward and bared her neck to the blacksmith. He unhooked the clasp, waiting no more than an instant to interpret her body language, reached around her slender neck and re-fastened it so that the bright silver heart on the gleaming chain shone from the dip of her clavicle like starlight.

“I do.” She said as she leaned back and watched with satisfaction as he admired his handiwork about her neck. His smile broadened into a grin, full of joy, and released from uncertainty.

“Well! Merry Christmas to us!” He boomed happily. Frey laughed in agreement and then reached up to unfasten the mistletoe from one of her pigtails and held it above their heads between them.

“Venti, would you mind?” She inquired sweetly. The huge dragon laughed joyfully and reached down to clamp her jaws closed on the end of the sprig, holding it out over the newly forged couple with eager compliance.

Bado grinned even more broadly and leaned forward in time with her own movement until their lips met directly beneath the mistletoe. Warmth and happiness and relief flooded into her from the touch of his mouth to hers. Frey swam in the simplicity and pleasure of that promise. When they separated once more, she could feel the group let out their breath and smile at them both. Nancy began to clap and in a beat or two the others joined her. Volkanon blew his nose loudly and wiped tears of joyous approval from his eyes. Porcoline clapped and giggled and bounced up and down in giddy excitement on their behalf, and the rest nodded, called words of approval and encouragement, or simply smiled at the pair of new lovers in their midst.

All day the people of Selphia danced and sang and played and partied, telling stories, roasting marshmallows, and all feasting together in the evening. After nightfall, the group bundled up and went outside to watch the stars, the one custom that predated Bado’s newly invented traditions. All that _wonderful_ Christmas day, Frey and Bado barely let their clasped hands separate. Frey could barely imagine _not_ having him right beside her by the time it was finally time for him to go home again, but her big, broad-shouldered dwarf smiled and kissed her lips and assured her he’d be there first in the morning to wake her. She smirked and gave in to the impulse to tease her new boyfriend.

“Oh, really? Your track record for performing your duty says otherwise.”  She said slyly. Bado laughed and grinned at her.

“What’re ya talkin’ about? I came yesterday morning didn’t I?” She smirked and rolled her eyes. “Don’t believe me? Well, that’s fine. It’ll make it a surprise.” He nodded. She grinned and hugged him again.

“Merry Christmas, Bado.” She said, pouring warmth and affection over him with her voice, “Thanks for giving me the one thing I really wanted.”

“Same to you, pet.” He hummed happily as he squeezed her back. “I _was_ hoping for a cluckadoodle that lays solid gold eggs or something in that vein, but this is nice, too.” Her face scrunched instantly into a silent laugh and she swatted his arm in mocking disapproval. He gave another of his generous laughs and lifted her off her feet, hugging her to him and kissing her face all over while she giggled and squirmed. “Merry Christmas, Love.” He murmured gently, “And may we have many, many more together.”  


End file.
